


Hold me gently into the night, with love

by innsaei



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic, Fluff, M/M, Not Beta Read, Sculpture, hajime is purely oikawa's origin, tw:blindness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:07:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25440625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innsaei/pseuds/innsaei
Summary: It's always in the eyes. The love we hold for people. They dance in the undertones of our pupils, gleaming and glistening. But for Oikawa Tooru, his world is shapeless, dark and devoid of light and his eyes can't tell.However when Hajime is there, love comes. And it blooms between his dainty soft fingertips and Hajime's rough calloused ones.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 10
Kudos: 80
Collections: Iwaoi fluff week 2020, iwaoi





	Hold me gently into the night, with love

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Hold me gently into the night, with love](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26600848) by [zaglavye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaglavye/pseuds/zaglavye)



> this was majorly inspired by "your eyes tell" by BTS. it was a new way of writing where I had to make Oikawa describe Iwaizumi through his senses other than vision. I really apologize for inaccuracy. nevertheless I hope you like it, this one left me soft for the entirety of the time i wrote it.  
> please check out the fic playlist [here](https://t.co/vudvzSp6zr)

The white long stick bumped into a hard surface as Oikawa came to a sudden stop, his right hand reaching out to search the familiar grip of the door handle. He stepped forward a little, calculating the space between his body and the surface cautiously to avoid stubbing his toe. Right to his calculations, his fingers suddenly grazed the cold steel handle jutting out. Smiling a little bit, he mentally congratulated himself on not getting injured and grabbed the handle rotating it clockwise. 

“Iwachan?”, he called out softly, his voice echoing in the room. He could sense the room being darker than where he was a few minutes ago. Hesitantly, he moved slightly as his footstep matched the sound of the stick hitting the floor, one step at a time. He knew there were many tables lying around with Hajime’s works and god forbid, if he were to crash into one of them, he would be devastated.

Suddenly, his hips bumped into a jutting out edge of a table and he let out a loud yelp immediately dropping his stick to rub his side.

“Oikawa?!”, Iwaizumi’s voice rang out from his left. He could hear the sound of a chair suddenly being pushed back across the wooden floor and footsteps running, coming closer and closer.

Oikawa bent down, his fingers groping around on the floor for the stick till his hand wrapped around it. Simultaneously, he felt two strong hands grab him from the side and pull him up gently,  _ firmly yet gently _ .

He smiled facing the left, where he knew Hajime was standing, before raising his own arm up to grab Hajime’s hand and intertwining their fingers. 

“I got up and you were missing so I figured you might be working.”

He spoke a little quietly even if it were just the two of them in the room. He was afraid of disturbing the tranquility that seemed to blanket Iwaizumi’s working space.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you when you entered.”

Iwaizumi answered apologetically as his thumb rubbed circles at the back of Tooru’s hand. His hand was warm yet he could feel the texture of clay stuck in the crooks of his fingers. Hajime’s fingers were long and they completely engulfed his hand, akin to the way his being gathered Tooru in his arms and kept him warm.

Oikawa waved his apology aside before turning towards where he could sense a dim feeling of light streaming in.

“What are you working on, Iwachan?”, he questioned inquisitively, scrunching his eyebrows up and tilting his head a little to the side. He could feel Hajime vibrate as a burst of soft laughter escaped through his lips when he felt a palm pressed against his back pushing him forward.

Iwaizumi was right behind him, his lips close to Oikawa’s ear as he whispered, the warmth of his breath washing over Tooru.

“I haven’t completed it yet-”, he hand left Oikawa’s as the sound of a chair being pulled up echoed in the cramped room, “-but I want to know how you feel about it.”

He gently pushed Tooru’s shoulders down, making him sit on a cold wooden chair before pulling his work closer towards the brunette.

Oikawa reached out his hands as he came in contact with a cold lump of clay. It wasn’t just a cold lump but to his eyes that could not perceive any light, depth, colour or shape, it felt like it could be anything. Pursing his lips, he started moving his fingers around determined to figure out the object when he felt the warmth of two large hands engulf his hands.

The roughness around the edges of Hajime’s fingers grazed his fingers but they hovered ever so lightly without pressing too much into his hands as he lifted both their hands up and placed them on top of a spot on the lump of clay. It was a little sunken area and he found Hajime grabbing his index finger and lightly helping him trace the curves of what seemed to be two raised lines curving and a little divot.

“Eyes?”

Oikawa whispered, turning his head a bit. He felt a soft breathy kiss being placed on his forehead.

“ Yes.”

Hajime spoke softly before bringing Oikawa’s index fingers towards a spot where he felt something curve upwards.

“Your eyes curve upward at the edges and the shadow always settles around the corner when you smile at me. Right here.”

Oikawa sucked in his breath as realization slowly dawned on him. There was a cool breeze flitting in from the slightly ajar window and he felt the lump rise in his throat. It was a chilly autumn night but Oikawa felt the heat from his chest slowly spreading to his extremities, making him bask in the feeling of being so incredibly loved.

“Iwachan, is this me?”

His voice was soft but he poured in as much love he could in those words, hoping they could relay it to Hajime. There is darkness and there is dimness. Oikawa's world doesn't have colours but ever since Hajime walked in, Tooru knew what it was to feel light. Thousands of photons racing through space, pushing away the pitch black that had been engulfing him. 

“ Why should I make a sculpture of anyone else?”

Hajime answered before brushing away the stray strand of hair from Tooru's forehead. 

"I have you as my muse, Tooru."

Hajime planted another quick peck at his cheek before leaning in closer.

It's an exhilarating feeling of a neutron star collision to be Hajime's muse. His heart contracted in pain that came from the intensity of his love and he whimpered softly when Hajime's hands wrapped around his, the heat seeping through his skin into Tooru's.

His palm was calloused and Tooru wanted to kiss each and every inch of them, whispering words of his love into them. 

“Here is your perfectly symmetrical nose-”, Hajime spoke as he guided Oikawa’s fingers across a sloping arch. His finger abruptly stopped at a certain point as Oikawa laughed quietly. 

“Hajime, why is there a dent here?”

He could feel Hajime’s hands shake as his entire body shook due to the ripples of quiet laughter that rolled out. 

“Ahh that-”, he rested his chin on Oikawa’s shoulders, nuzzling into the nape of his shoulders before continuing, “-that’s on the bridge of your nose because you perch your spectacles so perfectly.”

Tooru’s lips formed a pout even when the lines around his eyes gave away the smallest hint of a smile. He then slowly drew the shape of his nose as best he could on Hajime’s palm.

Wordlessly, he looked up and he could feel Hajime press a smile into his skin as his palm closed in on Tooru’s and lifted it up. With bated breath, Tooru closed his eyes as he felt Hajime’s lips softly graze his skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps and undiluted, unspoken love. It's the feeling of a wildfire spreading in his chest and it came every time. Oikawa burned and burned, brighter than a star, whenever Hajime touched him. 

He could not see Hajime but Tooru knew the curves and edges of Hajime better than he knew his own. His hair had sharp ends but the length of the strands was soft whenever Tooru would run his hands through it, clutching on to them every time Hajime pulled him in for a breathless kiss. His eyes were narrowed in towards the center and Oikawa knew that his eyebrows were thick from the times he ran his fingers across them, smoothing them whenever Hajime got too focused with something and scrunched up his face. Tooru could imagine him looking somewhat hilarious yet adorable and he would always giggle at the thought of Hajime resembling an angry baby. His face was always soft, unlined and cleanly shaven whenever he would lean in and snuggle into the corner of Tooru’s neck.

Oikawa’s thumb would always softly skim across Hajime’s lips before they kiss, his long dainty fingers leaving the ghost of a touch. One that always made Iwaizumi part his lips as a shaky breath would escape, his mind clearly intoxicated by the feeling. His upper lip was slightly thin at the top and the lower was plusher but Tooru’s favourite spot was the perfect cupid’s bow. Every time Tooru’s fingers traced Hajime’s features, he felt heady and incredibly euphoric as if he could run for hours fueled by sheer love and lust. The intimacy of his phantom touches always chilled Hajime to the bones.

Oikawa loved every curve and crevasses of Hajime but his favourite was his hands. Strong, large and calloused from hours of molding clay. Yet so delicate in the way he laced his long fingers with Tooru’s, countless bandages around the cuts he picked up every now and then. Oikawa would lightly trace the scars when they would harden before disappearing and curse them softly for leaving marks on his favourite art. 

The rest of the world saw everything and felt so little but for Oikawa Tooru, his train ran in the opposite direction to the rest of the world. He saw nothing and yet felt everything. The curves, the sharp edges, the fragility of a flower petal, the fine-grained sand on the beach, the complexity of a falling snowflake. Guided and held by Hajime’s ever so patient, loving hands Oikawa felt the boundless infinity within love in ways others would never. His every touch writing a novel into his skin. 

_ Igniting. Racing. Always leaving Tooru yearning for more. Never enough. _

“Iwachan, what about my lips?”, he questioned as he leaned in and rested his head on Hajime’s chest, feeling the rise and fall in tune with his heartbeats. He lifted his chin up slightly when he heard a sigh escape through Hajime’s lips.

“I am stuck there.”

Hajime sounded so remorseful and down that Oikawa had to suppress the giggle that threatened to betray the sobriety of the moment. 

“Oh-”, he could feel his lips curve upwards in a teasing smile as he spoke, “-are you too distracted to remember what they look like?”

He raised his eyebrows slightly as he turned to face Hajime, his voice a little low and slightly lilted. 

He felt a shift in the air as Hajime moved and then suddenly a finger was suddenly on his lips. Oikawa felt his lips part as a shallow breath escaped, the slightest touch setting fire to his brain. He felt the soft caress of Hajime’s lips and then it was gone making him let out a small whine. But he was still relishing the way Hajime was running his thumb, tender and almost like a butterfly’s touch, over the curves of his lips, the small lines, the divot above his upper lip, resting briefly in the small gap between his upper and lower lips. 

_ Hajime. He was his origin, the beginning just as his kanji suggested.  _

“Try as I would, I can’t do justice to them”, he whispered. 

“You have the most gorgeous smile, Tooru”, he spoke again as Oikawa listened with rapt attention momentarily unmoving, “ the way your lips curve upwards leaving crinkles by the corner of your eyes, you should know you could put the world to shame.”

Tooru chuckled as he brought his palm up to hide his face at the straightforward, blunt compliment, a tinge of red colouring his pale cheeks. 

But it was true. When Tooru had smiled at him the first time, Hajime could swear the sun had toppled from the sky and made his home right in his chest, the warmth embedding itself in his raw self.  _ Lilac skies. Lapping waves on the shores. Citylights slowly disappearing into the night.  _ His smile was a concoction of all the things Hajime loved and he looked ephemeral standing there smiling at him. 

Love came to Hajime in the most beautiful,unadulterated way and he knew it was the smile that sealed the deal.

Oikawa felt Hajime pull his hands away from his face and lift his chin up.

“Stay here-”, he requested before adjusting the angle of the chair Oikawa was sitting on, “-I want to sculpt your lips again.”

Resting his chin on the back of his hand, Oikawa leaned forward as he heard Hajime pulling in his box of tools towards him. The sun must be setting outside because he could hear the neighbourhood kids coming out for their evening game and the sound of passing vehicles was becoming lesser.

Tooru smiled to himself at the thought of his favourite artist lost in his work while he parked himself there on the chair.

Oikawa thought that he would take the entirety of his life to love someone. He could never fathom being in love with someone whom he could not see.

What he never anticipated was that it would take just a touch. A single, simple gesture. Yet so intricate and intimate. It was in the very first moment Hajime held his hand when he was crossing the road. 

It was as if the spaces between Tooru’s fingers were made perfectly just for Hajime’s fingers. They held hands and Tooru found himself writing his heart and his name into the creases of Hajime’s palm, pouring his incoherent love between the lines running across the expanse of his palm.

“Hajime?”

“Hmm?” Hajime mumbled distractedly as he sorted his tools, his fingers probably workling deftly.

“I love you.” 

Hajime was his eyes to the world. Even if the sun were to dip in his life, even if the pitch black was to return, Tooru knew he could always call out and he would feel the same warm familiarity that comes with a hand meeting him. If his eyes could tell, he would wish Hajime would see the way his love for Hajime danced in them. But Oikawa wasn’t the type to lose out to fate so he wrote his love on his fingertips that danced on Hajime’s palms every night.

There was an abrupt pause and he felt Hajime lightly caress his cheek causing him to sigh softly and lean down on it.

“I love you too.”

It came back as a whisper in the twilight settling in the space between them, but Tooru felt his heart take flight for the umpteenth time.


End file.
